


Not Really Strangers

by disestablishmentarianism



Series: Bird Neighbors AU [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3840781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disestablishmentarianism/pseuds/disestablishmentarianism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marci will probably be mad, but Foggy's just grateful that he's such a good neighbor.<br/>(Matt needs help and Foggy's the one who comes to the rescue)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Really Strangers

It’s way too early in the morning, about 6:30 if Foggy trusts himself to judge the passing of time, for Marci to summon him for a booty call. And honestly, what sort of woman gets back from a night out at 6 AM and still wants to fuck her college classmate? Apparently Marci.

While disgruntled thoughts (sexy thoughts too, because Foggy can’t lie to himself about Marci even at a reasonable hour) are clouding his mind, he walks down the hallway to the staircase, almost reaching the landing when he hears yelling from inside the corner apartment.

“What do you want? What are you trying to accomplish!? Can’t you leave me alone, there is _nothing_ for you here-”

The voice (sounding agitated and somewhat afraid) cuts off when Foggy hurries over to bang his fist against the apartment door, his good nature making him worried for the man inside. Because really, he seemed so scared and desperate and these apartments didn’t have the best reputation in Hell’s Kitchen, so what else was he supposed to do? Walk by and hope he wasn't going to come home later to a police investigation?

When the silence after Foggy’s knocking becomes too long for him to handle (even though it was less that 30 seconds long), he opens his mouth to call out to the man inside, but before he can get out any words the door swings open.

The thought that rushes into Foggy’s head as he looks at the man in the doorway is _holy shit what a handsome duck_. What he notices first is the man’s sleep-mussed hair, flattering beard, and gorgeously red lips. What he _should_ have noticed were the sunglasses the man wore in his own apartment and the cane resting by the door.

“Yes?” the man says, his (lovely) lips contorted into a grimace as he leans against the doorframe. “I’m sorry but I’m really quite busy, did you need something?”

It takes Foggy longer than it should for him to grin awkwardly and explain, “No, nothing in particular, I just heard you yelling and thought there might be someone dying, or getting hurt, or I guess just some guy being… busy.”

The man smiles (oh wow) as he recovers quickly from whatever problem he was having just minutes before. Foggy can’t tell if the smile is forced out of pleasantry or if it’s honest.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” a blush spreads across his cheeks as he rubs his neck in embarrassment (Foggy swears he can see the man’s ears turn pink). “I didn’t think I was being that loud, I just got a little… frustrated.”

“I could tell,” Foggy chuckles. “Are you sure you’re okay? I understand if it was something personal, but if you need help from a total stranger, I could…?”

There are a few beats where the other man seems a bit surprised at the offer before he smiles wide (the corners of his eyes under his sunglasses crinkling) and nods.

“Yeah, I could actually use some help,” the man then holds out his hand, smile still wide and warm. “I’m Matt.”

“People call me Foggy.”

They shake hands and Foggy forgets all about his promise to Marci.

“There, not total strangers anymore. So what can I help with?” Foggy asks as he follows Matt inside, feeling strangely at ease inside the other man’s home.

Matt, who Foggy now realizes is wearing sweats and a t-shirt, probably preparing for a morning run (with that body, Foggy isn’t surprised), sighs a bit as he leads the way into a strangely barren front hall and living room.

“You’re gonna laugh, but it’s honestly a problem that’s been bugging me all week.”

Foggy shrugs while trying to inconspicuously investigate Matt’s (barren) home.

“I promise, no laughing. I am here only to help a neighbor out,” he says as honestly as he can, because in reality? Foggy is totally here because Matt’s smile could light up all of Hell’s Kitchen. Maybe even all of New York.

When they stop on the other side of Matt’s living room, which, Foggy can’t stress enough, is _really empty_ , Matt gestures vaguely to the large windows taking up most of the wall. Foggy just stares. What is he supposed to be looking at?

“Ah yes, windows,” Foggy says, because he’s a smartass and he knows it.

Matt only sighs again instead of explaining. “Just wait. It’ll come back again.”

Thankfully Foggy doesn’t have to wait in the awkward silence long, because less than 10 seconds after Matt finishes speaking a loud thump and a sharp clicking noise startles him out of his confusion.

“What the fuck is-”

But no. Foggy does know what the fuck that is. What the fuck that is happens to be a small bird fluttering outside of the ridiculously huge windows, its wings making loud noises as it bashes itself up against the glass.

Really. Seriously?

“Oh my god,” and Jesus, Matt asked him not to laugh, but _really_.

Foggy can’t help but giggle, a small noise that grows until he’s really struggling to keep it together, just for the sake of his neighbor’s dignity. But when he sneaks a glance over, Matt is grinning too.

“I thought you were in trouble, man! You sounded like someone was trying to rob you!”

At this Matt finally lets out a small laugh (and here Foggy thought Matt’s _smile_ was perfect), “I am in trouble! This devil bird keeps waking me up at 6 in the morning and even though you’d think that it would stop, it _doesn’t_ and it just keeps on ramming itself on the window until the sun goes down and it’s driving me insane!”

Foggy is long gone by now, holding his sides in laughter as Matt rants in what appears to be sincere annoyance at the window, while the bird continues to be a nuisance in the background.

“Okay, okay, you’ve proved your point, but it’s not really the bird’s fault. They can’t help being idiots,” Foggy says when he manages to catch a breath. “And what do you expect me to do about it? I’m no bird expert.”

At this Matt shakes his head, finally turning from the window to face (somewhere to the left?) of Foggy.

“I know, but it’s hard to look up what kind of bird this is on Google if I can’t describe it.”

It takes longer than it should (Foggy’s a _lawyer_ , dammit, he should be able to put things together) for Foggy to realize what Matt’s really saying and he gasps a little before blushing profusely.

“Oh my god, I didn’t even realize. I am the idiot of the year, I should not have even made it out of college. I took classes in deductive reasoning and I didn’t even know,” Foggy groans, his hands making their way to his hips. “Your sunglasses make so much more sense now.”

As do the bare walls, the minimal amount of furniture and the lack of magazines and decorations. Matt, bless him, looks more amused than offended and waves Foggy off for making a “reasonable mistake”.

“Moving past that embarrassing moment, would you like me to do the honors of looking up who this evil menace is?” Foggy says as he fishes out his phone, because smoothing over humiliation is his specialty.

Matt smiles (surely it’s just the light playing tricks on Foggy that makes the room seem brighter?) gratefully. “If you would be kind enough, I would greatly appreciate the help of color-seeing eyes.”

Within 2 minutes Foggy has a list of all possible devil bird candidates and a plan brewing on how he can come back to Matt’s apartment repeatedly over the course of the next week. Purely for the sake of ridding Matt of the bird, of course (not because he had a dumb crush for the first time in years, absolutely not).

But Foggy’s always been awful about lying to himself, and Matt is _really_ hot for a man that yells at birds.

**Author's Note:**

> the idea for this dumb story is the only good thing that came out of the birds that have been harassing me outside my window (does anyone actually know how to stop them? can they even be stopped?)


End file.
